


Eyes For You

by Jupiterra



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cute, M/M, clean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-12 02:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20163838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jupiterra/pseuds/Jupiterra
Summary: Netherlands is very distracted during a dull meeting.





	1. These Eyes

The world meeting was dull, a litany of drab words. Netherlands, Lars to his friends, had already talked. Recording on his phone the rest of the meeting, he stared into the distance. Why was he here? No one had probably listened to his passionate initiative for getting citizens to bike more. Some countries were getting so unhealthy it was alarming.

In this silent suffering, Lars sensed another victim. It was Canada, across the table. The rather mute blond was looking respectably miserable as usual. Out of England's brood, Matthew was always the most morose. Something important happened in this defined moment. Violet eyes met with his, communicating a single sweet intention. _I understand_. It was only a second, but it struck like a lightning bolt. Unsure if his brain was malfunctioning, Lars watched in mutual understanding.

Canada resumed staring at the walls, so sad looking. That faint frown was unpleasant to see. It was a snap decision, a rare thing for Lars, but he scribbled a joke on the corner of a page. Silently tearing it off, he folded it and slid it across in stealthy manner. The note arrived on target, sheltered from prying eyes.

The freckled Canadian unfolded the note with care. Upon reading the simple joke, what would pass as a dad joke in today's world, he smirked. Seeing this, Lars was pleased. It wasn't a full smile, but it was enough.

00000

Months passed quickly for nations like Lars. If he didn't pay attention, he could lose most of a year without effort. These days, time seemed to tick by slowly. Netherlands had a plan, a grand one at that. He had heard legends of Canada's smile from other nations. It was supposedly a precious reward for anyone that witnessed it. The problem was, no one had ever seen it except France. That was well over two hundred years ago.

Lars took it upon himself to fight back the ocean. He mastered sailing and trading. He flourished in the Renaissance. Making one person smile was probably easy in comparison. Hell, Lars would make the modest nation _laugh_. This evening, he was cooped up in his exceptionally cheap hotel room. Hunched over the provided desk, he angled the weak desk light at a blank piece of paper.

Tomorrow was the world meeting, hosted in Brandenburg, Germany. Lars would think of the funniest joke to ever exist. That was the plan. In reality, he had been staring at blank paper for twenty minutes with no progress. Well damn, time to consult the internet. Leaning back in his chair, he browsed for a few minutes on his phone. He found plenty of crass jokes that were hilarious. They were also dated and did not pass the political correctness standards of today. If only the humour of a fart joke could be recorded on paper effectively!

Sighing, he settled for doodling a tiny bunny picture. Still an accomplished artists despite years of neglect, his bunny looked well enough. This would have to do.

The next day, Lars arrived early. Only Sweden, Germany, and both half asleep Italy brothers preceded him. Sure enough, Canada trailed behind his American brother, looking downright drunk from jet lag. He wasn't the only one. Sitting at the designated spots, it took a moment for Canada to register Netherlands at all. When he did, eyes met once more in silent greeting. It was a different kind of communication, most nations incapable of it.

Smoothly, Lars slid the note across. It was caught and read instantly. For the shortest of moments, a half smile appeared. Half a smile, but victory seemed so close. Far less miserable, Canada readied himself for presenting first.

The meeting went by like they do, not having changed much in sixty years. Lars did his only actual job, taking notes, giving suggestions... the usual, really. Truth be told, he was relieved to flop on the hotel mattress after. The heat was uncomfortable today, making a modern brown suit silly to wear. Chugging a glass of water, he took notice of a note on the floor. It must have been slipped in here while he was away. It was the same bunny note from before, but different. In blue pen, another bunny had been drawn beside the first. A question mark was above it's head, as if in query. Underneath the bunnies was a phone number.

Lars sat back in disbelief, having achieved the impossible. He was the first nation, as least since phones were invented, to get Canada's personal number.


	2. Taming Wild Rabbits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, as requested

Lars wasn't sure how to handle social encounters with Canada. Sure, the guy totally saved his ass in the second world war. Canada was brave, carrying a starving beaten Lars out of hell. In such a condition, Lars had been barely conscious. He couldn't talk while half dead, let alone establish political relationships. That was the first and last time he was in prolonged contact with the northern nation. Netherlands could still remember soft cotton bandages and warm oatmeal after languishing for two months in prison camps. It might as well been the touch of god.

Yes, Canada could explicitly be trusted. It was the only reason Netherlands had agreed to such a bizarre meeting. Impossible to contact or date under regular conditions, Canada had sent him navigational longitude and latitude. Bizarre, but at least the guy answered his brief text greeting sent two weeks ago. Now Lars was sitting in a random national park within his own country, small picnic basket packed. The bench he was sent to had a nice view of a duck pond. A visiting swan was honking obnoxiously as it paddled proudly about.

Arriving five minutes early, Lars whistled as he waited. The swan seemed to contemplate attacking him, but grazed instead. Like a supernatural force, Canada appeared. He was many metres from the bench, violet eyes squinting in suspicion. Dappled in shadows beneath an old tree, his tracking skill was superb. Unsure what to say, Lars knew better not to say anything. The first of his neighbours to tame wild rabbits centuries ago, he understood slow tactics.

Finally Canada spoke. His soft voice eliminated any chance of intimidation. It was ironic, since he was a ferocious soldier. "Why are you sending me notes in meetings?"

Lars blinked in surprise, having planned for other responses. "I felt like it."

"Is this a game? Are you pursuing me?"

The accusation was surprisingly blunt. Lars wanted to laugh, realizing this was an attempt to be threatening. In so many ways, it was not. "No," Netherlands shook his head, "I wanted to see you smile."

Whatever Canada was expecting, it wasn't this. He adjusted his glasses in thought, emerging slightly from tree shadows. Ah, he was curious. "Why?"

Netherlands knew if he said some vulgar crass thing now, it was over. This was probably the only chance he had. Canada was so busy even talking this long to him was rare. Here, the guy had _come back_ from another continent to scope Lars out. "You always look sad. It's not right."

Canada had trouble processing the answer. He must have, because he looked confused for a full ten seconds. "Why do you care?" The wheaten blonde oozed anxiety once more, forever ready to bolt.

Grinning, Lars opened the picnic basket. He took out an egg salad sandwich. Chewing and swallowing a bite, he hummed. "This is so delicious. It's a shame I can't eat them all."

There was hardly the sound of wind in the peaceful meadow. It was just Canada watching him, crippled by social anxiety. After a while, the other nation was almost in reaching distance. Canada licked his lips, obviously hungry. "They do look good."

"Yeah, I'll just have to toss the extras." Lars lied sweetly.

The wary stance of before was dropped as Canada put arms akimbo. "That's wasteful. I thought you were more resourceful than _that_." Sass, real live sass. Lars was witnessing the soft yet sassy attitude Canada had never displayed at gatherings. Normally he retreated into selective mutism.

Playful, Lars leaned back on the bench and shrugged. "I guess I'll have to find someone to eat these."  
  
Canada finally took the hint, sitting beside the basket. He craned a hand over the prizes inside, looking up for silent permission. Lars granted it with a friendly exchange of gazes. "Thank you." he answered sincerely. With this last friendly sentiment, all traces of grace and beauty ended. Canada was no rabbit, he was a voracious bear. He could pack food away just as intensely as his American brother. The only difference was Canada didn't talk while he did it. All four sandwiches were completely destroyed in minutes. Not even crumbs remained

"That was a great snack, Thanks." The blonde sighed happily. "I may have forgotten to eat after landing." Finally, the bread crumbs of a conversation were offered.

After months of attempts, Netherlands and Canada finally had a meaningful conversation.

00000

These harmless meetings persisted for months. The wheel of time turned with the seasons, but Canada never seemed to tire of Lars's brief company. They never did anything serious, mostly hanging out in various places after meetings. The legendary smile was yet to be seen. It was clear Canada was slow to warm up. He was open to chatting and sight seeing wherever they went. It was discovered early on the shorter man was a passionate bird watcher. Lars didn't care at all, but there was always cookies if he went. Canada's baking was just as heavenly as anything France or Belgium could produce, while uniquely different. It was also a mystery as to why Canada didn't have diabetes. He knocked back Maple Syrup like water when upset.

With another meeting in two days, Lars was setting up in his hotel room. It was happening in Edmonton, Alberta. The grey city bloomed out of golden prairie, Rocky Mountains to the west. This far away, they were a hazy purple line with white caps. It was not a surprise to received a text. It was Canada, greeting him with a rain of colourful emojis.

Once Lars was deemed safe, the social floodgates opened. Canada constantly texted him, sending pictures. Birds, Instagram worthy food, and random poetry appeared on Lars's screen almost daily. It was one more veil of secrecy lifted from a character. Still, this latest barrage of friendly emojis was different. It consisted mostly of hearts. Canada had never sent hearts before. Was Lars looking too deeply into this? After moving as glacial pace for so long, he didn't know what was flirting anymore.

Another text popped up, littered with yet more emojis. 'Do you want to see mountain peaks?'

Lars cocked an brow. This had to be flirty, it had all the hallmarks of impulsive horny texting. Still, he was best to act neutral. 'Yes' was typed quickly, with a last minute lapse in judgment. He added a winking smiley face, sending it. Okay, maybe Lars was a little pent up.  
  
There was no response for over forty minutes. Fuck. Lars had already messed up! Resigned to begging his way back in good graces, he watched TV. Finally, there was a reply. It was only two words, 'Waiting outside'. Netherland's heart almost jumped out his chest, a certain something perking up too. Canada was horny! Oh joy of joys! Lars might get laid by the most elusive hunk on the planet! Bouncing to the door, he opened it eagerly.

True to his word, Canada was there in a T-shirt. Considering it was going to snow soon, this seemed very insane. More importantly, the man looked hungry. He probably didn't want food. "Lars." He greeted breathlessly, happy to approach. He twined chilly fingers in Lars's, a newer development. The gentle touch still sparked for both of them.

"Hey good lookin'." Lars laid on the charisma thick, however rusty he was at it. He was rewarded with a rich blush.

"Why..." The whisper was silken and bare, sultry in the softest sense. "Why do you call me Mr. Williams? Or Canada? Why don't you call me Matthew like everyone else?"

Knowing where things were headed, Lars took a risk. He took Canada's hand and gingerly kissed it. "I'm waiting for you to give me permission."

"Oh, oh... That's..." Canada swooned slightly, eyes dark and lustful. "You can call me anything you like, Mr. Van Den Berg." With this final statement, he pulled the tall nation down in a kiss. Matthew's true smile was radiant as he attacked Lars with kisses. Netherlands slammed the hotel door shut, having welcomed his new lover inside.

00000

The meeting was dull like always. Nothing ever changed. Matthew smiled like a school girl in love the entire time. People took notice, attracted to his stifled radiance. It seemed he was just as capable of attracting attention as America. He needed to not be clinically depressed to to do so. Maybe a day and a half of _certain naked activities_ had something to do it. Matthew was a bear in many ways. The Canadian was probably lousy at poker, given how he glowed right now.

More subtly, Lars sat just the right way in his chair. He was very over dressed for the day, but had good reason. It was difficult to hide this many hickeys in public. True to promises, Netherlands had been to his personal mountain's peak many times. Matthew was surprisingly dominant the entire time. Being a bottom was fun if the person driving wasn't a rough douche. Lars's somewhat large ego was fully sated by Canada's sheer submission in all other means.

"What has you smiling, boy?" England finally asked during break. A dozen nearby eyes watched.

"I'm dating someone." Canada chirped with glee.

Lars almost choked on his coffee, coughing sharply. He had no idea they had been at that stage. Moving so slowly was horrible on judgment, especially with a lightning speed Netherlands. His shock was mistaken for something else, thankfully. Accolades of of surprise followed. Apparently Canada was quite the skilled catch.

_"No WAY! Who is it?"_

_"How?"_

_"I asked four times!"_

Matthew shrugged teasingly, giving Lars a loving glance.

China caught on instantly. "Him!? You're dating that no good dock rat?" The entire room swivelled to glare at Netherlands. He sweated from something other than heat, forty pairs of eyes burning into him.

Only Russia could make this worse, as expected. "Did you bribe him?" He asked, holding no regard for manners.

America smacked the superpower on the shoulder, indignant. "My brother is not a prostitute."

Greece yawned, forever tired on jet lag. "Wait, are we allowed prostitutes?"

Germany slammed his fists on the table. "There will be no more talk of paid sex workers! This meeting is moving on to the next scheduled topic." Everyone grumbled, but refocused on work at hand.

00000

A day after the meeting, Lars was packing up to go home. Matthew had taken him out for a nice steak dinner, but even Canada had to answer the call of duty. Leaving the hotel room, a few other nations were still lingering to visit. Mexico, Cuba, and Spain were also packing their shared rental car. That must be a ride from hell right there. The three deeply tanned nations approached, all rocking hideous tourist gear. "Hola! Netherland!" Spain called out, a dick like usual.

"Netherlands. My name is _Netherlands_." Lars hissed, having clashed with Spain for ocean trade control many times. There was centuries of watery bloodshed between them.

"How did you do it Amigo? Drink? Games?" Mexico asked, the most brazen of Spain's ass backward children.

"How did I do what?" Lars deflected, knowing damn well what the topic was.

"How did you get to Canada? I've been trying forever! It's always 'I'm not into communists this, or 'human rights' that." Cuba went on, just as bad as Spain.

"Yeah you're Caribbean trash, hombre. The Dominican Republic has his shit together better than you." Mexico spoke in cutting Spanish accent, not exactly wrong. They immediately began fist fighting in the parking lot like the best of English street punks. Spain continued to earn worst parent of the year award, ignoring them as he drank straight from a bottle of... something dark.

"How did you get to Matthew? He's a tough customer." Spain went on, cheerful and carefree.

Lars shook his head, smirking in amusement. None of these troglodytes could ever tame wild rabbits.


End file.
